Free Fall
by randomcat23
Summary: Post Season 2. It was a family tradition in Georgia: Luna Lake Park! After the fall of the farm, the group rests in an abandoned amusement park. As the group forges a stronger bond, Lori tries to repair her marriage. Lori, Daryl, Glenn, and Carol POV. Pairings: troubled Rick/Lori, Gleggie, Caryl friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Randomcat23 does not own The Walking Dead.

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**Pairings:** troubled Lori/Rick, Gleggie, and Caryl friendship.

**Author's Note: **I've been working on this thing for three years! After so many starts and stops, I'm happy to finally share it. Enjoy!

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Uncertainty had clawed its way into their daily lives like a second skin. Tight. Restrictive. The farm burned down a month ago and since then each breath was nothing more than a countdown to the next uneasy nap, one can of beans satisfied like Thanksgiving dinner, and silence was not only a virtue but a necessity.

In the middle of an abandoned road, the group huddled around the hood of the lead car, waiting for Rick's next decision. He crisscrossed his fingers over a worn map. Large X's notated where they had run into herds or an overrun town, turning the navigation device into a crazy tic-tac-toe game. They were losing.

"What about Luna Lake?"

Beth's unexpected chirp rippled through the group, setting off waves of murmurs and head shakes. It was the usual uncertainty every suggestion was met with, except for her son's reaction. Carl whipped his neck toward his mother, eyes bright. Lori was defenseless against her son's smile and her cheeks ached with the unfamiliar expression.

"What?" Rick took his arm off the hood of the car. The rest of the surrounding group visibly recoiled from his tone.

"Luna Lake, it's close by," Beth clarified before trailing off.

Her suggestion had two things going for it: One, Luna Lake was a known location, and two, they wouldn't have to travel far. The damning thing about it was that the idea hadn't didn't come from Rick. He had turned into something resembling a dragon of legend, hoarding all of the decisions and snapping at anyone who tried to contribute.

Lori flinched at the dismissive chuckle her husband emitted. It was too reminiscent of Shane's. The rest of the group, even Daryl, shivered in the gusty wind.

"It is close." Glenn spread his arms wide to hold down the map's flapping corners and dropped a finger. With a nod to Rick, he estimated, "We could be there in 15 minutes if the roads are good."

In an effortless gesture, Rick regained control of the map with a wide stance. Pointedly, he negated Glenn's comment while Daryl eyed the location on paper. "No. It's too big of a space."

Glenn paused, eyeing their leader for a second before finding his defense. "It's surrounded by a brick wall...wasn't it?"

Beth pushed forward, her enthusiasm growing, "Yeah, it has brick wall, maybe five feet tall? And there's a metal fence on top of that."

Just like that, hope lit up between T-Dog and Hershel, who passed it on to Maggie. The breath they had all held rushed out of them.

Lori caught the twitch in Rick's hands, saw that he was waiting for one word to justify throwing the idea out the window. It was the best idea in a long time. The shadows were getting long, they had slept in the vehicles for nearly two weeks. They needed a solid night's rest. She brushed a palm over her swelling stomach, steadying herself in her future before readying a counter to Rick.

"The outbreak did happen in the spring," Lori offered. "The park may never have opened. It could be well stocked."

"It's risky," he countered.

Ever watchful, Daryl stalked over to the trees to drop a stumbling walker. At the sight of the bloody dispatch and the way it swiped away Carl's grin, Lori pleaded again, "It's worth a shot, Rick."

As he always did lately, he kept his attention on the map. "We will check the parking lot, and do a sweep along the outside," Rick declared with a nod to Daryl, who ran a rag over his knife. "_If _it's safe, we'll rest there."

"If it's safe," Lori confirmed with a nod.

Moments later, their tiny caravan rolled down the street toward their first real destination in weeks.

* * *

Two steps out of the group's ear shot, Glenn let out a heavy sigh, "Do you think this place is safe?"

Daryl met his gaze out of the corner of his eye. "Could be." It didn't look like much now, the patchy road flanked by tall trees and bushes. Up ahead, Daryl could see where it presumably opened up into the parking lot. "It's worth a look," he amended and adjusted his crossbow so it rested off a sore spot.

"Do you think Rick will give it a chance?"

The grunt that left his lips barely constituted a reply, but Daryl bought himself some time by examining a park sign laying in the grass and pausing to listen for walkers. Rick wasn't willing to take any risks, bopping them from farm house to farm house ever since they regrouped on the highway. It always ended the same, chased out by walker herds or forced to move to find food.

"Might be no other choice," Daryl said with a nod at the evening sun.

"Maybe we can get a few days out of it, at least." The younger man picked up his pace and Daryl heard the reliable rumbling from Glenn's stomach. The whole group was a walking fleet of motorboats these days; the chaos brought on by walker herds prevented Daryl from hunting so they didn't even have that to fall back on.

He spat. They could really use some food. Especially Lori with the little one, and Carl and Beth. Those two barely noticed anything these days, eyes blank with hunger, moving only when told to. Beth had shocked him by speaking up today, but sometimes help came from unexpected places.

Luna Lake Park.

Daryl kept his ears open while twisting the familiar words around in his head, trying to place them. He sure as hell had never been here, never been to any amusement park. As they broke the tree line and were dumped into the parking lot, Daryl pieced together foggy bits of a commercial jingle that rose up from his memory with the name.

_Spend a day at Luna Lake!_

Other than a few cars parked on the far side, the expansive lot was empty. Ahead, the front gate stood two stories tall, an impressive arch of swirling metal that welcomed visitors. The brick wall Beth spoke of was present. The sky beyond was taken up with the skeletons of a Ferris wheel and roller coasters.

By the time they crossed the couple dozen rows of parking spaces and reached the gate, the jingle replanted itself in Daryl's thoughts like a weed.

_Spend a day at Luna Lake!  
The rides are grand for young and old!  
Make a trip and join the fun!  
Come on by before summer's gone!_

Daryl frowned as visions of the matted carpet of his parent's house and the television commercial resurfaced fully. The television had shown buttered popcorn, red and white striped huts, gleeful screams of kids on coasters, picnic baskets and corndogs.

Nothing like that here now. The whole area sounded more like a graveyard than a park, whistling wind and ghostly reminders of people in the litter and tattered signs.

With a grunt, Daryl hoisted Glenn onto the top of the brick and then shook the metal gate. Between the poles, he noted the shuttered ticket booth. Daryl raised a hand to shield out the dying sun as he turned back over his shoulder. Crumpled napkins blew across the gravel lot.

"Any walkers?" Daryl shook the gate again; its lock did not budge, but they'd get around it.

"No," Glenn whooped. "Not one."

* * *

Light feet and a grumbling stomach led Glenn along the outer brick wall. Daryl had been banging on the gate for several minutes, but the noise had yet to spark any movement except for a flock of startled sparrows. He'd take squawking birds any day over walkers.

_"Please, no walkers, please, no walkers."_

He'd become a man of simple needs. Even the stalest bag of chips was filling. Shelter could be nothing more than the backseat of the truck, rain on the tarp over the broken window. Maggie sleeping against his chest was a four-star hotel as far as he was concerned.

An amusement park with a brick fence sounded like heaven.

Glenn peeked in between the fence every so often. It wasn't the easiest place to scout since he was traveling behind a bunch of shuttered game stalls and buildings. But, the park was quiet and the wall didn't have any holes blown in it.

They needed to make this work.

He had only been to Luna Lake once with his freshmen roommates in an effort to explore the area before their first semester started. It was cheap. Twenty-five bucks got you an all day pass, games were never more than a few quarters, and the greasy food slid into their hands with no more than a ten exchanged. The benches had been repainted so many times, you could chip away a piece and see at least three colors underneath. The lines in front of the older rides had been just as winding as the shinier thrill experiences. The park was nothing like Cedar Point, the roller coaster thrill park he had grown up with, but it did have a timeless and attractive charm about it that even he picked up on as a nineteen year old.

None of that information did him any good when he was trying to convince Rick to check it out, but it was what he remembered.

The layout of the park slowly came back to him as he maneuvered around the metal fence poles and lifted the binoculars; the park opened up with gift shops, candy and food stands, and the string of arcades. Smaller rides dotted the interior, like the carousel, scrambler, and some other stuff he couldn't name. Abandoned paddle boats bobbed in the dark crescent-shaped lake near the middle of the park. The rest of the rides and attractions were sandwiched between the dip and rise of the park's resident coasters.

Still, no walkers.

Any gates he came across were locked and secured. Where the brick wall gave way to just a metal gate, black screening fabric kept peeping eyes from looking in, even dead ones.

For the first time in weeks, breathing came easy.

As he rounded the back corner and began his return, the sky turned a deeper shade of orange, heavy purple clouds hanging on the horizon. He picked up his pace; they still needed to check out inside.

Glenn shook his head as yet another annoyed noise escaped his stomach. He'd never been this hungry before, the kind that seemed to turn itself against your very own stomach. Sure, he remembered the days of living off ramen noodles and whatever fruit he could sneak out of the college cafeteria. As a starving freshmen, he never gained those fabled freshmen fifteen. But this was different. Ever since they left the farm, it had been nothing but running, sips of water, and crumbs supplemented by the rare scrap of turkey.

Worst of it all, when he wasn't on watch or actively fighting back walkers, all his daydreams were about food. He had taken to imagining his mother's kimchii, it's spicy contents dumped over a steaming bowl of rice, but had to stop himself because the very idea of it made both his mouth and eyes water.

Just as he spotted Daryl by the front gate, he caught a whiff of grease and let himself think about hotdogs.

"Let's do a quick sweep," Daryl said after Glenn reported his good news. "Gotta hurry though," he added with another glance at the dying sky.

In a wordless agreement, Daryl climbed over the fence first and Glenn followed with all the practiced ease gained over the last few weeks. They moved past the untouched ticket booths, squeezing through the spinning metal gate.

"Walkers wouldn't have an easy time with these, huh?" Glenn grunted and groaned with the metal. Most of the stands were shuttered and locked. Glenn knocked on each one and each knock went unanswered. He noted the Guest Services pavilion with its large front windows. A peek inside revealed an empty desk and stacked chairs. "We could all fit in here for the night."

Daryl nodded at him and tried the door, locked. "We'll come back."

The carousal dome dominated the middle of the walkway. Its' calliope toots would have tempted families to enjoy the day's first ride, but instead, the silence made the glassy eyes of the horses haunting. It was still an improvement over the walking dead outside. Glenn and Daryl moved past the ride quickly.

The entire park area was so large, they took to throwing broken bits of asphalt ahead of them to try and draw out any hidden walkers. Each time nothing appeared, the bolder they got, their whispers rising to regular conversational tones, their boots scraping along the ground.

By the time they reached the lake, they had been accosted by nothing other than a hissing raccoon from behind a garbage can. It scurried away before Daryl got a bolt through it.

"I can't believe there's nothing here." Glenn couldn't keep the awe from his voice. The beam from his flashlight scanned the still waters of the man-made lake.

"Let's get back. Get everyone in." Daryl eyed the surroundings again. "Set up watch around the Guest Services place."

Glenn agreed, but couldn't help but feel that a watch would be unnecessary.

* * *

Lori unrolled her sleeping bag next to the desk. All around her, the group dropped bags from weary shoulders and spoke in hushed but excited tones. With everyone distracted by the solid walls and possibility of uninterrupted sleep, only Carol and Hershel returned her smile.

"Well, this is better than expected!" Lori said.

"Best bet we've made in a long time," the old farmer commented.

Carol rolled her shoulders and said, "I can't wait to sleep flat on my back!"

They pulled down the shades on all the windows. Thin carpet surrounded the circular help desk. Lori struggled to move a postcard kiosk and didn't notice her husband rush over to help.

"Thank you." She tried a smile, but Rick kept his attention on the empty wall over her shoulder.

"We'll stay the night," he announced, quick to step away from his wife. "See if we can find anything useful tomorrow."

His seriousness was lost in the careless yawns and giddy giggles. Everyone had taken up their spot, paired with their sleeping partners. The door closed behind Daryl as he took first watch on a chair outside, his sharp eyes examining each and every shadow.

Lori tugged on Rick's elbow. "Come, sleep." He brushed her off with a gruff grunt, something about checking the back door. Defeated, she unfurled their sleeping bag and laid down slowly.

Everything was worse since the day they fled the farm. Less food, increased exposure to the elements. Her outburst about Shane had struck a deep nerve, and Rick hardly spared her a minute. She had tried to apologize a few times, but her weak attempts seemed only to infuriate her husband more. It was a month after Shane's death and Rick still wouldn't curl around her or look her in the eye.

She kissed Carl goodnight and then snuggled down in her bag. Lori drifted to sleep with the thought, _"Maybe I can set things right here."_

* * *

After weeks of heavy eyelids and heaps of responsibility that he was only beginning to take on willingly, Daryl expected he'd crash hard after completing his shift. Before he took watch he had picked out a corner of the room near the front window, thinking the cool glass would feel good against his forehead. The thought had been his small distraction while on watch. But now he was restless, fists twitching at his sides or over the strap of his crossbow. After he put a hand to the glass and confirmed everyone was still sleeping, he nodded to T-Dog and stalked off into the night.

He set his sights on the large tower ride halfway between the entrance and the lake. Figured with the moon light and coming sun he might be able to get a better look at the entire area from atop the structure. Already the tingling at the back of his neck disappeared, like it always did when he finally got a chance to escape the group.

What started as toleration out of need had slowly evolved into some kind of affection for this group. His annoyance at Lori had softened into begrudging concern. T-Dog knew how to keep quiet and was a good partner for cards; they had beat the crap out of Glenn and Maggie more times than Daryl could count. And Carol, he never minded being around her and her easy acceptance.

But nothing set him at ease like the silence of the night or a brisk walk through the woods. The cracked cement and lonely game stalls of this park were a far cry from pine needles and trees, but it would have to do.

The tower ride-thing-was on a raised platform. Whether the ride used to shoot people up or drop them from the top he had no idea. The name "Super Tower" didn't give much away. The sign arched over a walkway leading up to the platform. Sets of seats with worn black leather circled the tower. With a grunt, he climbed up the wooden steps to the base, taking time to listen for anything out of place.

A barely audible moan stopped him in his tracks. Daryl drew his knife. Inching around to the far side, he spotted the source: three walkers were buckled in a crushed car. Broken legs and metal littered this side of the ride. Daryl tilted his head up and spotted a snapped cable dangling in the breeze. He pushed his knife through three temples with ease and then spat.

"Dumbasses."

He completed another turn around the tower and, judging it to be safe, began climbing the rebar ladder to the top. It was too high to be any use as a watch tower; even if he caught movement, there was little chance he'd be able to shoot it from this distance or climb down fast enough to be useful. Thankfully, he just wanted the distance and solitude. He hoisted himself over the last step and crawled on the roof, steeling himself against the wind.

A lit match flashed and then died with a flick of his wrist. Daryl's eyelids fluttered with his first drag on the cigarette. He blew out the smoke and the stress from his shoulders. The space was barely wide enough for him to stretch out. A perfect hideout for one. His joints popped as he lounged over the edge of the railing, eyes on the horizon, and waited for the cresting sun.

In another life, sneaking into a park behind Merle with a few beers would have turned into a legendary night of pitching the empty cans from the top of the tower and hooting as the aluminum skittered across the blacktop. They would have threatened to throw each other in the lake and then Daryl would have laughed when Merle tripped and fell in himself. Maybe they would have yelled obscenities and then disappear before the cops shined flashlights into their eyes.

Daryl dismissed the hypothetical along with the twinge of guilt about his brother. He lit another cigarette.

Unlike the others who had immediately felt at ease behind these brick walls, it had taken him until this moment to relax. Two months on the road had thickened everyone's skin, but they were all still learning how to survive. It required a lot of heavy lifting on Daryl's end with Rick's anger rarely softening to disgruntlement. Daryl was used to aggressive alpha males and had unconsciously taken the second-in-command post. From there, he had Rick's ear, but he could also keep most aggression off of the others,.

They didn't need any of Rick's crap. They needed him to make good decisions.

Leaders made better decisions when they weren't distracted and weaknesses caused distractions. Now, Glenn and T-Dog had stepped up, and Maggie was pretty damn good with a gun given her father's previous hatred for the things (then again, Hershel had a near perfect shot, so it probably ran in the family). That left Carol, Beth, Carl and Lori.

It wasn't his place to tell the kids what to do, but he made sure Beth's knife was sharp, and that Carl kept his mind focused on his surroundings with a tap to his shoulder. He'd been teaching Carol a few basic defensive moves with a knife, but the chaos of the road had halted her progress; there just hadn't been time. They could use another person on watch, however, so he intended to continue that training.

He cursed. _"Shoulda had her stab those idiots on this ride."_

The last group weakness, Lori, he left mostly alone. She didn't need any more distractions as she was too focused on what she carried in her belly. Daryl saw her silent grimaces and tears and let Carol take care of that.

He dropped the trail of thought before it caused a headache. He tried to stay out of all the drama, but shit, the feud between Lori and Rick was a permanent cloud on the group.

Daryl stubbed out his cigarette and gave himself permission for a third. He hadn't had time to smoke and chew over the situation for a few weeks. The paper gave way under his teeth as he caught a whiff of coming rain.

_"Tomorrow mornin', maybe."_

He sucked in a deep breath, held the air long enough to cool his throat, before exhaling heavily. The horizon lightened and when the sun peeked over the distant hillside, Daryl climbed down, finally ready for a nap. This park would give him that, at least.

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**Author's Note: **Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Part two should finish the story, unless I get carried away. In that case, it'll end in three.-randomcat23


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** The Walking Dead does not belong to me!

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Carl weaved through the aisles in the gift shop, his face aglow with each shake of a snow globe or the rattle of key chains. Lori's cheeks hurt from grinning, even if Carl displayed more interest in survival items than the toys lining the walls.

"Look Mom, ponchos." Her son held up a handful of rain coats. "Do you think we could use them?"

"Absolutely. Grab a few."

Nobody had given the Gift Shop a second glance until this morning. After all, what use were novelty t-shirts and stuffed raccoons? But as the sun rose over the coasters and the group dispersed throughout the park, Carol, Lori, and Hershel explored the room and began picking up useful items.

Carol folded a stack of beach towels, boldly printed with the Luna Lake logo and a cartoony picture of the Swings. Towels made for decent blankets, or could become pillows if necessary. It never hurt to have items that accomplished more than one goal.

Hershel collected the first aid kit under the cash register, still neatly stocked in its clear case. With it, he discovered a bottle of rubbing alcohol and swabs.

There were sweatshirts in all sizes. Come winter, Lori couldn't think of anyone who would turn down an extra fuzzy layer. She ran her fingers over the stitched lettering on the front of a blue hoodie, coming away with only a hint of dust. Overcome, Lori buried her head in the fabric, and not for the first time today, felt blessed.

It did them good to stand in a place untouched by grime and decay, a place where you didn't have to ignore the rusty stain on the floor, or jump away from every groaning breeze. She had nearly cried last night after slipping her damp socks off and letting her feet breathe. It wasn't just her either; everyone woke up without bags under their eyes. Beth had slept in until the sun was high. Glenn and Maggie had stirred, realized they weren't in danger, and then curled back around each other.

Lori sighed; Rick would have to see the benefit of this place. They should stay here two days or even a week; the look on Carl's face justified any inherent risk.

Two racks over, Carl peered through shorts and t-shirts, flipping back and forth between one design or another. He stopped at one and after a moment said, "Mom, do you think I'm finally tall enough for the Steel Eagle?"

The simple question flashed her back to over a year ago, to the last time the Grimes family walked in Luna Lake. Carl had grown so much over the previous six months and had been convinced he'd be tall enough for the coaster, only to be crushed when the attendant turned him away for coming up just a half inch short.

"Probably." She watched Carl run his hands over the design again and it got her thinking. Daryl and Glenn had walked the place and had found no reason to stay holed up around Guest Services. Some of the others had already left to explore. They weren't leaving anytime soon, why shouldn't they walk the grounds and relive some good memories for once? She took one look out the window at the graying skies, grabbed an umbrella and said to Carl, "Let's find out."

They almost ran straight into Rick as he opened the door. He caught Lori's arm.

"Where are you going?" He demanded.

Her heart pounded in her ears. Rick's gaze was cold and suspicious. She hated the quiver in her voice as she answered him, "Carl and I are going to check out the Steel Eagle."

"Lori-"

Denial coated her name like acid. With a sigh, Rick put his hands on his hips and opened his mouth to state his reasons why it was a bad idea. She'd heard them all before; safety, her pregnancy, walkers. Every time it was with laced a little bit more annoyance instead of love or concern.

Lori blinked back tears and cut him off, "You should come with us."

"Yeah, Dad! I want to see if I can ride it." Carl yanked on his father's hand.

"Carl, no."

"Come on," Lori huffed, flailing for this family moment. It would be just the three of them in Luna Lake Park. Just like before. "Daryl and Glenn checked it out. Besides, you have a gun and so do I."

Rick stared at her for a long moment. Silent, mouth pressed into a firm line. He eventually dropped his eyes to her belly, though no emotion swept over his features. Her husband sighed, put a hand on Carl's shoulder, and relented, "Alright, but let's make it quick. Looks like rain."

* * *

It was the smell of Sunday nights spent watching football, high school Spanish classes, and amusement parks: Nacho Cheese. T-Dog breathed in deep over the opened can. Glenn inhaled, relishing the idea that there were twenty more containers of the stuff in the back. Twenty! The prize was so worth the unexpected, lonely walker locked in the storage room.

"Never thought I'd be so happy about fake cheese," T-Dog pined after another whiff.

Glenn brought forward a human-sized bag of tortilla chips and agreed, "Never thought I'd be so happy to see jalapenos." He smiled at Maggie's contribution before ripping open the plastic chip bag. Not a second later, he dunked a chip in the orange goo. Cheese dribbled to the ground even though he took care to support the chip on the way to his mouth. T-Dog and Maggie burst out laughing at Glenn's glee and then scooped their own chips. They all collectively hummed.

"So much better than canned beans," Maggie admitted with awe, taking a cheese can for herself. "Everyone's going to love this."

"Even Rick?" T-Dog half joked.

"Yeah," Glenn said in between bites, "Even Rick can't pass this up."

All the paranoid twitches they had developed on the road faded, the itch to always look over his shoulder, the need to constantly check how many bullets were left. A warmth spread through Glenn and he grinned widely at Maggie.

While Glenn and Maggie gathered up cans, T-Dog disappeared behind the racks again. Just as they discovered a can of jalapeno flavored cheese, T-Dog piped up, "And it gets better than just cheese and chips!" He returned brandishing an armful of pepperoni packages and the largest grin of the day. "We're going to eat like kings!"

* * *

The bell on the door burst into chimes as Daryl sprinted into the Gift Shop, rain dripping from the tips of his hair. He flicked the growing fringe back with a growl, then sputtered when Carol snickered from the corner.

"Storm moved in quick," he rationed, accepting a towel from her. Rain collected into puddles beneath his boots. "Where's Rick?"

"I saw him leave with Lori and Carl." Carol and Hershel had remained silent witnesses to Lori's pleading and Rick's begrudging acceptance. Carol couldn't blame Lori trying, but her friend's desperate attempt to woo Rick back only reminded Carol of who she used to be with Ed. Anything to keep her in his good graces. Seeing it happen as an outsider unsettled Carol.

Water glided down the window pane. If it rained for a few more hours, they'd have no choice but to stay another night. Carol turned away from the downpour and back to the stack of towels. Although it was probably unnecessary, Hershel had left awhile ago to watch their base in Guest Services. Left alone, Carol had folded one towel for each person. They didn't have room for more.

As she pondered her next task, Daryl flipped his towel over his shoulder and began to skulk around the gift shop. Carol followed Daryl's lead and strolled through the aisles of knickknacks.

Luna Lake Park.

It hadn't been more than a year since she had been here. Ed had taken off that Friday, a sad attempt to make up for the bruise on her hip from the night before. But Sophia had giggled at the very thought of returning here.

Carol paused her pacing.

"You know, this was the only thing Ed was better at than me." Her fingerprints interrupted the coat of dust on a ride model. "I loved the spinning rides as a kid, but by the time Sophia was old enough to ride them, they made me sick."

She hadn't known then what was greater, Sophia's despair or Ed's glee at the find. The day ended with her husband winning their daughter a stuffed, yellow poodle and Carol forcing a smile through tired lips.

Daryl growled, "Ridin' rides ain't anythin' important."

"It seemed like it at the time."

Carol dipped her chin to her chest with a small smile. With Daryl, she never felt she was just voicing thoughts to the air, like when Lori sometimes was too caught up in her own thoughts to listen. Or how the others shied away from her after Sophia died. He always left just enough time between his responses to let her know they were well crafted, but never too much that it drifted into awkwardness. It wasn't her intention to fish for sympathy; the memory had simply been dragged out of her by the location.

Carol sighed, his friendship more comforting than anything, and rescued the conversation from the wounds of the past by asking, "When do you think we can practice again?"

Across the room, Daryl said, "Ain't no walkers around here. Whenever we leave. Whenever we have time."

Carol pursed her lips, mind back on the reality of their world. "I don't want to get rusty." Here she was, folding towels, repeating the old tasks that, while having a place, didn't keep her from becoming walker bait. Her knife still shook every time a walker appeared and she had yet to feel bone give way under her first strike; Daryl had always been there to step in.

The windows shook with the pouring rain, raging like the thoughts in her head. Carol buried her head in a towel, thankful that Daryl was listening from the next row over and not as a witness to her frustration.

More often than not, she spent her time with him these days, learning and taking notes. Never once had he laughed at her questions, or scoffed at her mistakes. And there had been a lot of them, but Daryl answered them all in clear terms and corrected her gaffes with a gruff touch or a quick leap into action. He only yelled when she was in danger.

Now that she had tasted independence, she was starving for it. She longed for the day when people would look forward to having her on runs, when they'd stop looking over their shoulders at her and simply know she could watch their backs. She was fumbling at capability, momentarily grasping it and then losing it. But her arms were sore from muscle growth, and she sweated less under the backpack's burden.

"Wanna keep watch tonight?"

Her nostrils flared with a horrified snort. Carol whipped around and met Daryl's gaze over a row of picture frames. "Rick would never let me." Carol bristled; her progress had not stopped the former cop from shaking his head every time she missed a shot.

"I meant with me." Again, Carol snapped her neck to look at him. A flush colored his cheeks before he erased it with another clarification, "Got second to last watch." When she didn't answer, he huffed, "It be something else ya could do on yer own. Eventually."

"Oh, well, if that's the case. Yes."

"Don' go complainin' about losin' sleep though." His warning came out harsh, but she gave him a fake salute to let him know she didn't take offense. Learning how to keep watch could be the most useful thing she did here.

"You got it."

They both jumped when Glenn pounded on the door. A large can was tucked under his arm. The second she opened the door and let him in, Glenn hoisted his prize high and declared, "Guys, we have food!"

* * *

It was not the first time they got caught in a warm downpour on their way through the park, though it was probably the last. Lori watched the sheets of water rush down the awnings. The rain worked its way into a river, around and under the leaves clogging the drains. Despite the lingering summer warmth, a shiver ran down her spine.

When do you ever get to know the last time you'll be in a place? Doctor's offices you always promise to visit yearly. Your grandmother's house before she unexpectedly passes away and it's sold. Hell, even the supermarket or your favorite bookstore. Your home. Never once did Lori leave any place and think, _"I'll never return here." _ She found herself focusing on all the small details around her, like the order of game stands, the color of the garbage cans, the mulch sitting in the planters. If nothing else, she was determined to permanently imprint this place in her mind.

Untouched by the dead. A treasure chest filled with priceless memories.

With a last crack of thunder, the storm passed. Judging the worst of it gone, the family set off again to the roller coaster. The ride itself was all around them, surrounding the park in a protective manner. It's gray track contrasted with the popping reds and yellows and blues of the other rides. They were headed for the entrance to the ride, near the rear of the park. Carl rattled off facts about it. His enthusiasm dragged Lori out of her musing.

It opened in 1993.

There are 7 drops in total.

The Steel Eagle came into being only after a fan favorite, The Monster, burned up in a grease fire.

Her boy was practically skipping! Each little glance over his shoulder and another factoid brightened the day against the dark sky. Even Rick's gloomy presence just behind her left shoulder did nothing to quell the joy in his son.

Just like the last time. Just like it.

Except the last time they were here, it was her looming in the back of their group, arms crossed, shoulders pinched. Lori couldn't remember the nature of the argument, but Rick had tried to repair it by taking them out to the amusement park, to do something she thought a good family should do. By the end of the trip her sour mood had lifted; the picture they all took after the log flume still hung on their fridge.

Lori set her jaw; she was determined to have the same outcome here. If only she could find the right words to say.

"Mom look!"

At Carl's yell, Lori came out of her stupor and joined her son at the beginning of the line. A wooden raccoon cheerfully held up its paw indicating the height requirement. Carl stood next to it, beaming.

"I can ride it!"

It was a silly notion, determining whether or not Carl could ride it, as if that was still a possibility. Realizing this, his face fell a second later.

Eager to prolong Carl's joy, Lori ruffled his hair. "Do you want to sit in the train at least?"

"Yeah!"

She laced her voice with extra warmth as she asked, "That would be, okay, don't you think, Rick? Rick?"

Lori looked back at her husband, desperate to see any hint of the man he was the last time they were here, but he was glaring at the coaster station. She followed his gaze, squinting. Then, Lori gasped. Walkers filled the first five seats of the train in the station. Their flailing arms and snapping mouths shattered the illusion of Carl enjoying the coaster.

Without a word, Rick stalked up the queue and into the station. Five quick stabs ended the walkers strapped into train. Lori flinched with each stroke. A pit of loss curled in her stomach. Now mixed in with her vibrant memories of Luna Lake, was the horror of her husband stabbing five of the walking dead; the bodies slumped over the train mimicked the defeat she was unsuccessfully trying to swallow.

"We better get back," her husband said gruffly. He wiped the blood off his knife before he marched off, expecting them to follow.

Carl dragged his feet after his father, leaving Lori with her hands hanging at her sides.

* * *

Lori slunk in, one hand pushing the door, the other firmly on Carl's shoulder. With a prayer to the ceiling, she controlled the urge to cry and put on a happy grin.

Hershel greeted them, "Come on in! Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog found food!"

Carol was immediately at her side, blocking Lori's crumbing mask from the others. "Here Carl!" The woman offered an enticing plate of corn chips and a melting glob of cheese and gestured him toward the others. With a gentle hand on her shoulder, Carol guided Lori into the back with the ease of someone with years of practice hiding pain.

Carol's smile dropped as they passed under the door frame and into the back room. "What's wrong?" Over the last few months, Lori had learned a lot about Carol. The woman did not mince words when it came to relationship issues and Lori loved her for it, unburdening her secret pains onto the older woman.

Lori focused on the crowded shelves, thankful for the loud gleeful noises in the other room. "It's the same. He won't even look at me."

"Then what's really bothering you?"

"We used to come here every summer. Sometimes twice if the police force put together a family day." A wobbly grin came with her tearing eyes as her hope crumbled. "I thought, maybe here we could patch things up, or at least start."

The door chimed with Rick's entrance. Loud greetings rose up to meet him and then quelled with his gravelly response.

Carol's swift hand on her arm stopped the creeping tears. "Lori...you tried. You are going to wear yourself out. Right now, you need to worry about you." Carol slid a bowl of nachos into her clammy hands with a stiff nod. "You have time to smooth it over with Rick."

Carol's advice, while well placed, didn't help; If she and Rick were on good terms, starving and traveling the road would have been better. Lori would never turn away the blessings they found here, but all of them fell short of what she really wanted, to have Rick wrap a comforting arm around her waist, to kiss him again. For him to look at her with any emotion besides anger.

If not here, where could they rebuild their relationship? It was safe, they had a history here, there was food. Running around, cramped in vehicles, and fighting for their lives didn't create the best opportunities for a heart to heart conversation. Rick was always busy making decisions. For the first time, she thought they might never be the same again.

That dark possibility nearly had her in tears again.

Not wanting to be a further burden, Lori gave Carol a tight nod, releasing her back to join the crowd.

She brushed the latest round of tears away with the heel of her palm. The nachos tasted stale and the cheese barely registered as anything other than warm goo. Despair threatened to set in. She shook away the thoughts. After she shoveled the last bits into her mouth, Lori regained her composure with a few short breaths. Setting her jaw, she reentered the room before she could conclude that her and Rick's relationship was a lost cause.

* * *

It wasn't hotdogs and it sure wasn't kimchii, but it was a family meal. Glenn scooped cheese onto a pile of nachos. T-Dog divided the pepperoni into equal shares. Maggie distributed the plates. It was loud and cheerful. Hershel said a prayer and the group dug in.

"Not bad!" T-Dog said before gleefully chomping into a stacked chip.

"Not bad at all," Glenn agreed. He slipped an arm around Maggie and pulled her close. Her shoulder fit just so under his palm. A content heat spread through him that had nothing to do with the jalapenos.

Just before he lost himself in the happy buzz around the room, Maggie said, "You know, I didn't think we could make it. These last few weeks. But this...this makes me think we can."

He kissed her hair. "What made you change your mind? Was it the nacho cheese I found?"

She laughed before sobering. "Not just that. All of it. How we all came together. Beth's idea, you backing her up. You and Daryl scouting the place." She discretely pointed to all people around the room. "Carol and Dad finding the supplies. Us and T-Dog getting the food. Clearly no one else in the world thought to hold up in Luna Lake. But we took a shot, and we made it work."

"We did," Glenn agreed. He hadn't thought about it, but it truly had been a collective effort. Rick dictating tasks. Everyone finding some way to contribute. Maybe it really was the way they had become a family that made this respite feel so rewarding. The room quieted at the right time, anyone within earshot mulling over Maggie's observation. Carol handed out more food.

"We can't stay here," Maggie continued, louder to include the entire group, "It's too much like the farm. Too big to guard."

From the back of the room Lori insisted, "We could make it work."

"No, Maggie's right," Rick said. There were murmurs of agreement. The excitement from just moments before sobered with the reality that it wouldn't last.

"Then let's come up with a plan." Glenn stood to address the room. "We have the time. We should use it."

Rick was already unfolding the map. They all clustered around the circulation desk and finally got a chance to digest the map. It listed everything from schools, to this amusement park, to small unincorporated towns. Where was safe and least likely to have been overrun? What locations would they never think of going to before, but now were worth considering?

"Let's pick a few places," Glenn said, eyeing each inch for untapped potential. "Backups upon backups."

"It's a good idea, Glenn," Rick acknowledged. He pulled out a marker.

Their planning went late into the night. Hershel brought another round of coffee as T-Dog drew up their routes. They ranked them in order of preference, based on ease of travel, defense, and escape. There was always the chance that none of these plans worked. The world was like that these days, destroying any stability. But as Glenn glanced about the room and idly ran a finger down Maggie's arm, it didn't feel so awful anymore.

Lori and Beth were the first ones to tucker out. Carl went next, begrudgingly. Pepperoni bags were emptied and replaced. By the time Rick came back from first watch, they had a list of five potential paths.

Rick reviewed them, nodding. "Tomorrow, we're heading for this prison."

* * *

"Stop fidgetin'," Daryl growled.

Carol stiffened, shoulders hunched high. Her gaze flicked constantly between the gaps between the game stalls to the shadows on the roofs to the distant full darkness. How does anyone on watch not go insane? Every creak of wood sounded like the groan of a walker. The wind set the canvas awnings into an ominous flapping.

Next to her, Daryl was stone.

And for whatever reason, that only made her jitters worse. Carol jerked at every noise, waiting for the dead to crawl around a corner, or for slumping silhouettes to overtake the main corridor of the park.

Suddenly, Daryl jabbed a finger into the air. "You know what walkers sound like. That flappin'? Different. Rain? Ain't the same. Stop jumpin' at everything. You'll know when something don' sound right."

Carol squeaked. She turned from his intense glare, face aflame. Once she had her breathing under control, she sighed.

She listened.

Slowly, she filtered out the sounds one by one. There was the _whumph, whumph _of loose canvas and the _creak_ of strained wood. The flapping canvas fell away, the wood numbed into the background, until all she could focus on was the abnormal.

There was nothing.

Tentative confidence puffed up her chest and she mimicked Daryl's steadiness. Her gun relaxed on her lap, her knife was ready in its sheath at her side. Occasionally, someone stirred inside and Carol picked out individual footsteps. Judging from their lightness and swiftness, she guessed it was Glenn. She was proven correct when the very young man popped out of the door and wandered into the night to relieve himself.

Proud of herself, but wanting to cover up that noise, she turned to Daryl. "Have you ever been here?"

"Supposed to be quiet," he snapped, but it lacked his usual bite. He huffed and repositioned his feet. "No. Never been here."

"Not even when you were a kid?"

"Nope."

Glenn gave them a sleepy wave before reentering the building.

Carol tilted her chin back and counted the stars. "I used to love watching the fireworks here. They always seemed so close from the top of the coaster."

A small noise cut her musing. She clenched her shoulders, still expecting the worst. Unsure, she turned to Daryl, but he was attentive too. When he stood, she did. After two months together, she had learned to identify fear from caution. Right now, with the firm look on his face, but lack of fidgeting fingers, led her to believe he didn't think the noise was walker-based. She relaxed and tried to pick out the noise again.

"Doesn't sound like a walker to me."

"Nah." He flung out a hand to halt her following. Before she could take it as an insult, Carol gripped her gun. Someone always had to cover the other. If he was taking point, she needed to have his back. Daryl glanced over his shoulder and she nodded. They clicked on their flashlights in unison.

As he stepped toward the noise, Carol followed just a few paces behind. After a breath or two, a garbage can rattled. She saw a bit of the tension leave his shoulders. Something scratched at the pavement or maybe that was wood splintering somewhere. Then, in the glow of Daryl's flashlight, a raccoon appeared. It hissed at them and then scurried into the dark.

Daryl dropped his stance with a huff.

Carol hid a giggle behind her hand.

The rest of their watch passed without note. She was still a long way off from taking watch by herself, but it didn't feel impossible anymore. Eventually, Hershel traded with them. The sky was still dark. Carol yawned but didn't feel the pull on her eyelids that she expected. There was still adrenaline buzzing in her veins.

"Thank you, Daryl."

"Ain't gotta thank me. Does us all a favor if more people take watch."

"Well, you're the only one to ever ask me." Unsure of how to waste her energy and find sleep, she shifted her weight before turning to the door. Rolling over on her sleeping mat was the only option she could think of. Unless Hershel wanted company on his watch...

She stood there awkwardly biting her lip, until Daryl asked, "Wanna see somethin'?"

"See what?"

He almost smiled. "Just come on."

* * *

The sun kissed the cold steel of the coaster, but it was too late in the year to feel the direct warmth of the sun. Carol's hand chilled as it guided her up the service steps of the coaster's hill. She rubbed her hands together furiously to get blood flowing again.

Daryl grunted behind her, "Don't stop."

Step by step they climbed the slick ladder. The wind whipped and tugged harder at her sweatshirt the higher they rose.

If she had had any breath left, the view from the top took it away. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dark and she could make out the lake and the tower ride. Within a blink, the dark setting sparked with light as the sun tossed its first rays over the ground. Carol stilled, watching the colors reveal themselves. The deep red of the shingles, the navy blue paint on the roller coaster. Stark white swan boats bobbed in the lake waters.

It was beautiful.

She turned to Daryl to smile, but froze as he unexpectedly met her gaze. A moment passed between them before Daryl turned to squint at the horizon. He exhaled, maybe he was out of breath too. A gust buffeted her back. Carol curled inward and swayed. Daryl climbed a step, positioning himself at her shoulder.

His slight grin was contagious. The sudden urge to kiss him grew slowly just like the sun peaking over the horizon. Where there was nothing before now shined with potential.

Taking a risk, Carol leaned back just enough so her hip rests against his body. He stiffened, though it could have been from the wind. Gambling again, Carol snuck a glance at him and caught the end of his own sideways glance. They shared an easy silence as the sky brightened.

Then a dark shadow crept over the horizon.

Carol gaped as it grew into a massive army, slowly marching toward the back wall of the park.

"Walkers," she choked. Daryl was already five steps ahead of her.

"Come on, we gotta go!"

She took one last look at the view, blotting out the wave of dead, and rushed after him.

* * *

They ran for the gate. Cans and bags bobbled in Maggie and T-Dog's arms. Towels slipped out of Beth and Carl's hands, but Rick yelled at them when they stooped to pick up the supplies.

The first walkers stumbled around the corner of the wall. Thankfully, the barrier had held off the walkers at first, but by the time Carol and Daryl had reached Guest Services, the dead had split, shuffling around the park. Now as the group rushed to their cars, the mass of growls were as loud as thunder.

In front of Lori, Daryl and Glenn took out the closest walkers. To her left, Carol shot another. Lori thrust Carl into an open vehicle before she could see the body hit the ground.

"Stick to the plan! The prison isn't too far!" Rick yelled as he gestured wildly. He met her eyes for a second before turning his back to face the oncoming herd.

He was within reach.

She didn't try to grab him.

She didn't call his name.

Lori slammed a car door behind her. Rick downed the walker grabbing at Hershel's sleeve. Other doors closed rapidly in time with igniting engines. The first vehicle raced out of the parking lot.

Her husband finally jumped in the driver's seat and punched the gas pedal. As their tires spit gravel, Lori kept her gaze focused on the head rest in front of her. She bit back bitter tears.

_"So much for repairing our family."_

Carl craned his neck around his mother to look at Luna Lake Park. They made a sharp turn out of the parking lot and back onto the tree-lined driveway. The brick wall and its fence faded behind the dead. Soon all he could see were the peaks of the coasters.

And then nothing at all.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hi! Sorry it took so long to get this posted. Turns out, relatively speaking, nobody wanted to read this thing so I put it on the back burner. It does feel good to complete it though.

Hope the wait for season 10 goes fast! Cheers.-randomcat23


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